Love's Paradise (6 page)

“There's always a choice.”

“I want to be kept abreast of everything. If it comes out of that hole I want to know about it.”

He nodded curtly then opened the trailer door, seeing Cleveland and Tamika standing outside talking. “Cleveland, please escort Ms. Summers and her associate to their car.”

Sheri fumed as Cleveland stepped forward. She began walking then stopped as she passed Jordan in the doorway. She gazed up into his cold dark eyes. Her heart beat wildly and her stomach quivered. She was livid, but apparently he couldn't care less. “This isn't over,” she assured him quietly.

He looked at her card and then smiled cockily as he saw the anger blaze in her eyes. He could plainly see she was furious, so he intentionally provoked her one last time. “I'd be greatly disappointed if it were.”

She smiled tightly and then walked away.

Tamika walked toward Jordan. “Wow, what was all that?”

“A whole lot of interesting,” he said admiringly.

 

Sheri was beyond furious by the time they reached the outside gate. He had challenged her and basically refused to budge. Her heart was thundering and it felt like every nerve in her body was
on fire. She'd never been so infuriated in her life. And that was a major accomplishment considering who her former stepfather and her brothers were.

But his attitude was ten times worse. He was insulting and patronizing. And if he thought he'd won this war, he had another think coming. That was only the first battle and there was no way she was going to give up. When she said it wasn't over, she meant just that. “I can't believe the unmitigated gall of that man. He's a self-centered, closed-minded, egotistical jerk and he had the nerve to question my credentials. Who does he think he is?”

“Jordan Hamilton,” Cleveland said. Both Sheri and Genie turned to look at him. He shrugged, having stated the obvious. “Ladies, have a good day,” he said, as they exited the gate and continued to the Jeep.

J
ordan stood on the deck outside the trailer watching the fire-breathing Sheri storm away as he shook his head in exasperation. The whole situation would've been comical if it wasn't so ludicrous. Imagine, a woman coming out to his site to rage about a hole in the ground. He shook his head again. He'd certainly had his fill of drama for one day. He walked out onto the deck then went down the steps to watch her walk away. Cleveland led the two women down the muddy path. When they reached the asphalt she turned around. They stared at each other a moment across the short distance. Neither gestured or said anything, but each
knew exactly what the other was thinking. She had thrown down the proverbial gauntlet and he had eagerly picked it up. He smiled knowingly, realizing he meant exactly what he said—he would be disappointed if this was over.

He liked her fire. And he liked the passion he saw in her eyes. Just watching her now sent a slow burn down the center of his body. Maybe Ian was right, maybe he had been out of circulation too long. Either way she was working his body like a full-time job and then some. His mouth dried and he licked his lips. Her reaction was instant.

He chuckled to himself. There was something about the fire in her eyes that intrigued him. He liked it. He also liked the way his body had burned when he held her. She was certainly brazen to come out here like that. Most women he'd known would have never jeopardized a pair of heels for any cause. They'd back away from confrontation, but she stood right up to him. No woman had ever spoken to him like that. They usually did whatever he wanted, no matter what it was. But somehow he knew she'd be different and he liked the challenge before they even began.

Cleveland stepped up, said something to her and then led them back onto the walkway then around the office trailers toward the front gate. When they rounded the corner and disappeared from sight, Jordan shook his head again. Long shapely legs
planted in high stiletto heels covered in red clay and sand. It had to take some kind of dedication to make a woman stand in the middle of a construction site dressed like that.

He knew the type, a woman on a mission, fanatical, obsessive and self-righteous in her beliefs for a cause. She reminded him of someone he once knew. And apparently Sheri Summers's cause had something to do with a hole in the ground. He'd give her three days. By the weekend she would have certainly given up. But he momentarily reconsidered. That kind of passion wasn't easily discouraged. He knew she'd be back.

He walked back up to the secondary site and looked down into the hole. The machine across from him roared to life again and took his attention away from his wandering thoughts. He waved for the man in the backhoe to cut the engine again. He walked over to the pile of wooden planks then turned to the machine operator. “Did anything else come out of that hole?” he asked.

“Nah, it's just a bunch of old wood and some trash,” he said. “Empty soda bottles, cans, vines, tumbled limbs and a ton of crushed-up wood, you know, the usual stuff,” he called down. “I don't get why all the drama over what was probably an old forgotten trash dump?”

Jordan shook his head. It didn't make any sense. “Do me a favor, Leroy. Drain the rest of the hole.
I want to see what's really down there. And make sure everything pulled out of there goes to the office, no matter how insignificant it appears.”

Leroy looked at the pile of trash. “I found a glass bottle floating in there. It was old, like one of those old-fashioned medicine bottles. I pulled it out and tossed it on the side. It's gone now. One of the workers might have grabbed it.”

“Who?” Jordan said, immediately finding that unacceptable.

“One of the new guys,” Leroy said. “He mentioned he wanted a glass bottle to give to his girlfriend.”

“Find out who it was and make sure whatever was found is in the trailer by the end of the week.”

Leroy nodded, hopped down and headed to the pump generator to begin draining the remainder of the water. Jordan watched the draining for a few moments. “What's that?”

Leroy squinted. “I don't know. Looks like bucket.”

Jordan leaned down to pull it out, but it didn't budge. “Hold on, let me use the backhoe,” Leroy said. He climbed up, turned the machine on and easily dug out the bucket and surrounding dirt. He unloaded it beside the other debris.

As soon as Leroy dropped the shovel there was a loud crack and the machine stalled and began smoking.

“Hold it, hold it. Cut it off.” The engine sputtered then slowly died. “What was that?”

“I don't know. It did that earlier, too. Whatever it is down there just cracked the arm again. I used the last replacement part. It'll probably take a few days to get another one here and all the larger machines are already off-site.”

Jordan walked over, picked it up, cleaned it off and looked at it. It wasn't a bucket. It was a bell. He turned it over several times and tried unsuccessfully to scrape away some of the caked-on mud. “Okay, get Tamika to order the part. And better get a spare. We'll hold up digging around this area until the replacement part is in.”

Leroy nodded. “All right.”

Jordan turned and headed back to the trailer. As soon he sat down at his desk the phone rang. He pulled it out and, seeing the caller ID, answered. “Hi, bro, what's up?”

“Wow, you answered, I'm surprised. I've been calling you all day. I assumed your phone was sitting at the bottom of a cement mixer,” his brother said in his usual sarcastic manner.

Jordan chuckled. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I meant to call you back earlier. So what's up?” Jordan asked.

“Nothing much, how's everything there?” Darius said.

Jordan looked around the office thinking about Sheri. A slow easy smile tipped his full lips. He
picked up and toyed with the business card her assistant had given him. “Not bad at all.”

“Good, listen, what are your plans this evening?”

“I'm just headed home, why?”

“Good, I need a favor.”

“Sure, what kind of favor?” Jordan asked as he typed in a web address, pressed the enter key and waited a second as the Crescent Island Museum website came up.

“I need you to pick something up for me. It's on the way.”

“Okay, what and where?” Jordan said.

“It's right there on Crescent Island.”

“Here?”

“Yes, it's at Gates Manor, Louise Gates's home. She called me earlier this afternoon. She has some paperwork for me.”

Jordan stopped pressing keys and just sat there. “You're kidding, right? Louise Gates has something for you.”

Darius started chuckling.

“You know what she's like. She's a self-professed matchmaker,” Jordan said. “She was practically taking notes at Dillon's fourth birthday party last year.”

“Actually, she
was
taking notes,” Darius corrected him, still chuckling.

“This isn't funny,” Jordan declared. “I thought Aunt Ellen was bad, she's nothing compared to
Mamma Lou. The people on this island adore her. You should hear them. They think she's magical with her matchmaking.” Darius continued laughing. “And it's not funny.”

“Come on, man, since when are you afraid of an eighty-year-old woman? You can handle her.”

“That's not the point. Why put myself on her radar?”

“Truthfully, bro, you and I already are.”

“Yeah, I know. So why tempt fate? I gotta steer clear.”

“Can't do that,” Darius said. “I need that paperwork tonight.”

“She can email or fax it to you.”

“I need the originals.”

“Fine, she can send it overnight express. They'll get to the office first thing in the morning. Better yet, I'll pay for a door-to-door courier.”

“Nope, I need them tonight.”

Jordan sighed deeply. “Come on man, you're killing me.”

“I wouldn't ask if they weren't important.”

“All right, I'll do it. But you owe me big-time for this one.”

“I know. I'll see you later.”

Jordan closed his cell phone and sat back in his chair. He shook his head. The thought of being anywhere near Louise Gates made him nervous. He had no idea how his brother Julian did it. But
now he supposed Julian had nothing to fear, being married to Dena. It wasn't until after the wedding that they found out Louise Gates had played matchmaker all along. But to her credit she'd certainly gotten it right. He'd never seen his brother so happy. Still he had no intention of being her next target. Fine, he'd go and pick up the paperwork for his brother. But as far as getting caught up in Mamma Lou's matchmaking schemes, he would definitely steer clear.

G
enie didn't start the engine right away. They just sat there in the car, staring out the front windshield mostly in shock. “Wow, that was really intense,” she said breathlessly.

“Yeah, it was too intense,” Sheri replied. Her heart was still beating like crazy. “I can't believe I got so angry and he actually had security escort us out.”

“What a rush,” Genie added excitedly, putting her key in the ignition without turning it. “I thought stuff like that only happened in the movies. Being an archaeologist really is exciting.”

Sheri took a deep breath and released it slowly.
“Okay, this obviously didn't go as expected. Still, nothing's really changed,” she said confidently. “I'm going to do exactly what we intended to do. I'm going to stop them from destroying that site. Granted, it isn't going to be easy and it certainly doesn't look like Jordan Hamilton is going to listen to reason.”

“Yeah, you got that right,” Genie said. “But bottom line, he was right, it's private property and he can do whatever he wants on his property. We can't actually force him to comply.”

“I'll call the Smithsonian and let them know what's going on,” Sheri said. “Their lawyers should be able to do something about this, but it's going to take time.”

“But what if we don't have time?” Genie said impatiently.

“The museum will be fine. Don't worry,” Sheri said, as the wheels turned in her head.

“I don't know about that. I've heard that situations like this get bogged down in bureaucratic red tape and then nothing gets done. Money changes hands and eventually everything just gets swept under the rug and buried. What we need is to act fast, right now, immediately,” she said excitedly.

“Genie, calm down. There's a way to handle this. We have to follow the proper procedures.”

“Okay, okay, I get it. So short of kidnapping Hamilton and holding him ransom to get what we
want, what do we do in the meantime? Please don't tell me we just get to sit around and do nothing?”

“No, we do our work and we follow the rules and gather as much information on the
Crescent
ship as we can. If the Smithsonian lawyers are going to do battle with Jordan Hamilton and his high-priced attorneys, we need our side to be as prepared as possible. Nobody knows this island's history better than I do.”

“Okay, that sounds good.” Genie put the Jeep in gear and pulled out of the parking lot. They drove in silence for a while, each reflecting on what had just happened at the site. Genie started talking about everything that happened. She was getting more and more excited.

Sheri gazed out the window, seeing the sights of Crescent Island pass by. It was peaceful and tranquil outside, but there was still an unsettling feeling. Gone was her usual excitement and energy. The island seemed to have slowed to a sigh as the last signs of summer clung to the trees and the quiet of fall's approach hovered all around. This was her favorite time of year. The weather wasn't cold yet, but there was a bit of a nip in the air. That's exactly how she liked it. It was as if the whole island was preparing for the next season.

“Man, this would have been so cool if it happened next month instead of today. Then we could have let Mother Nature take its course. Let's see the
great and powerful Jordan Hamilton dig through snow, ice and frozen ground,” Genie joked.

The thought made Sheri smile. “Fortunately for him the weather's usually not that bad here. It gets cold and we sometimes have snow, but not a lot and not often. Even when Washington gets hit hard, we barely get a dusting. That's probably why they chose this site.”

“You know it's a shame he had to be so mean about this. He could have been a terrific patron to the museum.”

“What?” Sheri said, paying attention again.

“He has money and power.”

“I guess,” Sheri said.

“No, really. He's professional, intelligent and he looks like he can get things done. Besides that, the brother is fine.”

“What do his looks have to do with anything?”

“Nothing, I just like looking at him,” Genie said, and giggled.

“I'll chalk that up to youth.”

“Oh, come on. You know he's gorgeous.”

“He's all right,” Sheri said nonchalantly.

“I saw his picture in the newspaper a couple of times, so I kinda knew who he was when he stood up and started talking. But I seriously didn't think he was going to be that gorgeous in person. He's like a walking wet dream. Dark, sultry bedroom eyes and a strong, muscular build. He's the perfect
male specimen. And I really liked that rugged, half-shaven look on him. What do you think?”

“I wasn't paying much attention,” Sheri said dismissively.

Genie looked over at her. “Oh, please, who are you trying to fool? Tall, dark, handsome, a great physique and he's rich. That's like the Mega Millions of single guys these days. How in the world were you not paying attention? When a man looks like that, everybody pays attention. And you were right up in the man's face.”

“Yes, and if you remember correctly we weren't exactly chatting. We were right in the middle of a heated argument.”

“Heated is the operative word. And if the look in his eyes was any indication, you two had some serious heat going on. As a matter of fact, when that backhoe was turned on and you were right up there in his face, I would have sworn you two were about to do something other than argue.”

“What do you mean, do something other than argue?”

“Do I have to spell it out?” Genie asked rhetorically. Sheri's expression didn't change. “Fine, it looked like you two were about to jump each other's bones and get busy right there.”

“What? Oh, no, you did not just say that,” Sheri countered. “Uh-uh, no way.”

“I don't know. Passion works in strange ways.
And you two had some serious heat going on up there.”

“Passion is not that strange, and the heat was certainly not mine,” Sheri assured her.

“Still, I guess if all else fails you'll at least get close to him.”

“And then what?”

“Duh, Sheri, has it been that long? Use your feminine wiles. Seduce the man. Do a little give-and-take.”

Sheri laughed out loud. “No, I don't think so,” she said.

“Why not?” Genie asked.

“Because it would be demeaning and degrading, and besides, trust me, I am most definitely not that man's type.”

“How do you know you're not his type?” Genie asked as she parked the Jeep in her spot behind the museum. They got out and walked around to the front of the building.

“It's obvious. He's got an ego the size of North America.”

“Actually that might bode well for other parts of his anatomy,” Genie joked.

“Would you stop with the sex talk, please? Anyway, as you say, he's a rich, single and used to getting what he wants. That means his type of woman is everything I'm not—specifically, an airhead. His ideal woman probably caters to him
twenty-four hours a day. I'm not the submissive type. I have a brain and know how to use it.”

“He could surprise you.”

“Trust me, he wouldn't have a clue as to what to do with a woman like me,” she said, walking up the steps to the front entrance.

Genie followed close. “He's a man, I think he would. The question is would you know what to do with a man like him?”

Sheri turned, opened her mouth then quickly closed it and stumbled, catching herself before she fell. “Okay, why are we even speculating about this? It's a nonissue. It's not gonna happen. Trust me. The only thing I want from Jordan Hamilton is sitting in the bottom of a hole on his property.”

They walked through the employee area of the museum as they headed toward the stairs. “So, what are you going to do now?” Genie asked.

“First, I'll call Jack McDonald at the Smithsonian and let him know what's going on. There's nothing we can really do until I speak with him. I have a few more things to take care of here at the office. The running of this museum still goes on. My main concerns are the revised budget report and the funding we need to secure. I have to get next year's budget together as soon as possible,” she said as they went into her office.

“Yeah, but what about the site? What do we do about it?”

“Nothing right now,” she said.

Genie's eyes widened in shock. “Nothing? But there are valuable artifacts there.”

“That's why we have to tread lightly and do everything by the book.”

Genie folded her arms over her chest. It was obvious she wasn't buying the wait-and-see answer. “I don't get it. Why even have a museum if people are just going to bulldoze over everything anyway? It's like we don't have a say on our own island. How can this even happen?”

Sheri shook her head. “Unfortunately this happens a lot. Development companies purchase land and begin construction only to find a cemetery or a piece of history long forgotten buried on that land. Regrettably, it's usually covered up and all the artifacts and finds are discarded without the proper authorities ever knowing about it.”

“But we do know and we need to move quickly.”

“It isn't that easy, Genie.”

“I don't see why not,” she insisted.

Sheri smiled. She remembered Genie's exuberance and impatience well. She was about the same age as her assistant when the
Mabella Louisa
was discovered off the coast of Crescent Island and the small, almost insignificant museum was added to the Smithsonian Institution because of the find. Maybe, just maybe it would stay whatever change she knew was coming.

Sheri sat down, put her elbows on the desk and covered her face. A lot of what Genie said was right. She also felt the same outrage and anger Genie did. But she couldn't lose sight of what was important. Right now Jordan Hamilton held all the cards. She needed to be calm and get this worked out. She also knew she had to do something now.

Sheri grabbed the cell phone and made her first call, Jack McDonald at the Smithsonian. Although Jack was not a curator or historian, his position as registrar meant he was the supervisor for a number of smaller off-site museums. His voice mail picked up and she left a message. “Jack, hi. It's Sheri. Please give me a call back as soon as you can. It's very important. Thank you.”

As soon as she hung up there was a knock at her door. She smiled when she saw her grandmother's best friend standing in the doorway. “Mamma Lou, hi.”

“Hello, dear, I hope I'm not disturbing you,” Louise said.

“No, not at all. Come in, have a seat,” she said, standing and walking around to the front of her desk. She gave the spry octogenarian a hug and pulled a chair out for her. Sheri looked back to the office door as Louise sat down. “Where's Colonel Wheeler?”

“He'll be here in a few minutes. He's downstairs talking with an old friend. I declare, no matter
where we go Otis always runs into someone he knows. It's absolutely amazing. It never fails. But actually today it's a good thing, I told him to take his time, so we can have a few minutes for girl talk.”

After Louise sat down Sheri went back to her desk. “It's good to see you, Mamma Lou.”

“You, too. Camille and I were chatting this morning and since I told her I'd be in town today she suggested I stop by and peek in on you this afternoon.”

Sheri shook her head. Her grandmother always knew when she needed something. “I'm glad you did. It's good to see you, Mamma Lou. I think I can use a friendly face right about now.” Her voice trailed off softly. Louise noticed instantly.

“It looks like Camille was right. You look troubled.”

“I am. I just got back from Crescent Point and meeting with Jordan Hamilton,” Sheri began. Louise smiled. “No, Mamma Lou, it's not what you think, trust me. I know you hoped at one time that he and I were a match, but believe me we're not. You're completely off on this one. We couldn't be further apart. He's the absolute last man on earth for me.”

“Are you sure about that?” Louise asked as she remembered seeing the sparks of attraction in their eyes as soon as she introduced them at the party she gave months ago. It was unmistakable. She knew
instinctively they were the perfect match. Unfortunately sometimes people fought so hard to stay apart that they nearly missed what was right in front of them. She had no intention of letting that happen to Sheri and Jordan.

“I'm completely sure. The man's impossible. Talking to him is like banging your head against a brick wall. He's stubborn and arrogant, and as far as I'm concerned he has no values, no ethics. I don't know how anybody can actually work for him. He must be a tyrant.”

“That doesn't sound like the Jordan Hamilton I know.”

“Trust me, it is.”

“Has something happened that I don't know about?”

Sheri spent the next ten minutes telling Louise exactly what happened at the construction site earlier. Louise asked a few questions and Sheri answered, trying her best to sound as unbiased as possible.

“My goodness,” Louise said. “The possibility of discovering the
Crescent
would be absolutely extraordinary. A find of this enormity couldn't go unrecognized. It's our collective responsibility to do something, at least to make sure one way or the other.”

“I agree. But right now I'm at a loss. Jordan Hamilton is impossible.”

“That's so unlike him. He and his brothers are wonderful, very caring and charitable men.”

“Not in this case, not him. I have a phone call in to Jack in D.C. and I'm going to speak with Nolan later today and see what he can do to help. I'm also going to speak with Uncle Hal. My last resort is to get an injunction or something like that.”

“An injunction is pretty severe, don't you think?”

“No, not at all. Jordan Hamilton was very emphatic about his position. He's not going to allow us back on his property.”